A Cookie-Cutter Christmas
by DailyStarGazer
Summary: Christmas time in the Bing household. Just a little Mondler to end your holiday season! Merry Christmas, All!
1. Chapter 1

AN: Children, I am back again with another holiday filled story! I need some Mondler family in my life again...so here goes nothing.

 _Merry Christmas Eve!_

* * *

The aroma is filled with cinnamon, hazelnut and everything Christmas. The house is decked out in red, green, and tinsel as dozens of presents pile under a Douglas Fir. Matching pajamas are folded neatly at the foot of every bed while the kids slide around in fuzzy Santa socks.

The ground is frozen as an even blanket of snow covers the streets. Snow angels and frosty's are surrounded by little footprints as cold shovels lean up against porches, waiting for the next snowfall. The twinkling lights dance around neighborhoods brightening the warm homes with Christmas spirit as families wait for Jolly St. Nick to sweep down their chimney.

The spirits are high during the holiday season, with family's gathered around the kitchen catching up on days gone by and elderly couples curled up by the fireplace watching old classics. I'm sure the malls are filled with urgent last-minute shoppers too, but right now my family is at home dancing along to Christmas carols. At least, my wife is. I'm a little frustrated with the tape dispenser at the moment.

"Mon." I sigh, tape wrapped around every finger, refusing to cut loose.

Her back is towards me as she takes out another batch of treats for Santa's visit.

"Hm?" She mumbles, finding a place, anyplace, on the counter to set the hot cookie sheet.

"A little help?" I beg, frustration beginning to take over my positive emotions.

Finally she turns and examines my state before letting loose a loud belly laugh. "Oh, honey." Her heels tap against the tiled floor; her gliding movement causing her apron to sway back and forth before she reaches my helpless form.

I continue to hold the wrapping paper in place as I lift my tape covered hand, with the dispenser dangling beneath, towards my wife.

"What are you doing?" She questions, like asking a young child why they brought in a handful of snow from outside.

"Um..." I eye her "I'm wrapping your mothers gift."

"Sweetheart," And there's the head tilt. The same head tilt she gave Jack when explaining that snow doesn't "get" cold. It needs to stay outside where it belongs. "You need a bag. This is nearly impossible to wrap properly."

"Babe." I stop her right there, looking directly up at her curious eyes as she tries to free me from the mess I've created. "We have no more bags," I look around making sure Thing 1 & 2 aren't in ear shot "Santa used them all."

"And I suppose _Santa_ used up all the tape too?" She teases, winking at me as she bites down on her bottom lip lightly, causing her dimples to shine brightly.

How can one woman be so gorgeous? Light curls fall loosely at the end of her layers, her black cocktail dress matches my tie and although her fingers are covered in flour at the moment, her diamond ring continues to stand out.

"Okay." She sighs, ripping off the last strand of stickiness from my wedding band. "Now are you sure there are no more bags under our bed? My mother is going to be here in twenty minutes to watch the kids." She reminds me, rolling up the tangled useless tape into a ball before tossing it in the garbage.

"I checked," I assure her

"Well, can you check again?" She asks desperately, observing the unwrapped gift. Her hand finds the back of my chair as the other rest upon her hip.

"Mon," I turn to face her, although she's not looking at me. "Hey," I grab her attention. "Come here." I grab her hand and swing her around to sit on my lap. "Relax." Wrapping my arms around her waste, I rest my chin on her shoulder. Her body falls as I feel her muscles ease. At last, she is off her feet and in my arms. "Everything doesn't have to be perfect." I inform her "We'll go pick up more bags after the Christmas party. Everything is going to be fine." Kissing her shoulder blade, she rubs my hands.

"Thank you." She turns over her shoulder "I love you."

Leaning in, our lips touch in a passionate kiss before she pulls away.

"You're not gonna shave?" She questions, pinching my chin gently.

"Nah," I shake my head "I'm not that fond of the guys in my office."

Chuckling, she pecks my lips once more before standing and striding back to her baking "You know," She turns to glance back in my direction. "You're really hot with a stubble shadowing your face and your glasses pressing down on your gelled hair." She turns on the faucet to wash the powder from her hands.

Before I can return my seductiveness towards my wife, Erica comes sliding in. "When's Nana getting here?" She asks

"In a few minutes." I answer, "Did you pick up the popcorn that I asked?"

"Jack is the one that broke them all." She counters, crossing her arms over her chest as she refuses to clean up her brothers mess yet again.

This is why we never bother with stringing popcorn; it never works out and it just becomes a hassle.

"Here," I stand up, placing my hands on my daughters shoulders, and spinning her back towards the family room "I'll make it easy for you, _I'll_ go get the dust buster for you."

I've never had siblings so I don't know the real torture they can be, but when it comes to parenthood...yeah, I don't have much experience in that department either. Monica is usually the bad cop in situations like this. She continues to remind me that I'm amazing when it comes to the kids but every once in a while I still need some guidance in putting my foot down.

Everything is a learning occurrence. My parents were never perfect, but they tried their best when it came to my well-being. I believe that. And I would say I've learned from their perspective on molding my childhood. I've learned to express rather than react, I've learned to give the kids more than one option too. _"Do you want to go to bed, or do you want to lay down?"_ They are getting too old for that trick though; now that they're 6.

"Dad, why do _I_ have to vacuum up Jack's sloppiness?" Erica asks as I hand her the dust buster from the cleaning closet.

"Because I know you can do a good job." I answer simply. I can tell she isn't satisfied with that reply because she immediately collapses on the floor with a pout.

"I'm telling Mom on you." She whines as a tear threaten to fall. "I don't wanna be good at cleaning."

Okay, I think someone needs an early bedtime.

Crouching down, I speak softly in a calming voice. "Eri," I grab her attention "Smell the soup." I breath in through my noise and she does it with me "Cool the soup." We blow out a long sigh. "Now, when is Santa coming?" I ask, curious

"Tomorrow..?" She begins to question as the tears subside.

"Tomorrow!" I repeat, excitedly "We don't want Santa to see our messy house, do we?" She just shakes her head. "If you do a good job I think your Mom will sacrifice a cookie before bed."

Her eyes light up as she quickly stands and switches the power from off to on.

Maybe I do have this parenting thing down after all.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..."

I reenter the kitchen in mid-catastrophe. Jack is kneeling high on his favorite bar stool, reaching over everything with one elbow on the counter in order to get his dipping finger in the bowl of frosting.

Monica watches Jack with daring eyes as he freezes, inches from a sugar rush. "If you want to decorate these cookies, I'd put that weapon down, Mister."

His shoulders droop "But Mom..." He whines before getting cut off by his mother.

"But Jacky..." She mimics his sing-song tone.

Suddenly the doorbell rings and the lecture comes to an abrupt stop. "Jack, go let your Nana in, please. Chandler," She points at the present on the kitchen table and I hurry to discard of the evidence.

I love Christmas time; no matter your age, the magic never ends. The way the snow falls, the way the church bells ring, the way the twinkling lights brighten the township; there is nothing else like it.

Then when you have kids, it just adds to the most wonderful time of the year. Writing their first legible letter to Santa, decorating Christmas cookies without smearing frosting up to their elbows, seeing the tree lit up in Time Square...is there anything better?

Monica keeps pushing me towards the idea of another baby, but honestly, I'm afraid of being out-numbered.

Most kids grow up with the same beliefs in Santa Claus. It wasn't until this year that we decided to introduce Hanukkah to the twins. I don't know if they understood the full meaning behind Hanukkah expect for the idea of lighting a candle on our Chanukah Menorah every night. Once the shammash was lit, four days ago, they started asking questions why we don't have anymore candles to light. Monica then went on to explain that Hanukkah only lasts eight nights in honor of the Holy Temple. I think they liked the idea of eating donuts and potato latkes every day than anything else, though.

"Darling, you look gorgeous..."

Walking back into the kitchen I gush "Aw, thank you Mrs. Geller, but look at Monica!" I joke

Judy cringes "I was talking about Monica, Chandler." She corrects my mistake before turning her attention back to her grandchildren.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I turn to Monica. "I told you she hates me." I whisper in her ear.

"She doesn't hate you, honey." She straightens my tie before patting my chest "She just doesn't understand your jokes." Reaching behind her, she begins to undo her apron.

It's nice to see Judy's relationship with her daughter has changed over the years. I started noticing the difference when we had the twins, but I honestly think it's because she wants more grandchildren.

Well, she's just going to have to wait a little bit longer.

"Mom, their bedtime is 9 if we aren't back before then." Monica informs her mother as I follow her to the front door and help her into her coat. "The cookies are cooling so they can frost them for Santa in about an hour."

I wrap my scarf around my neck before slipping into my coat. Grabbing my keys off the side table, I press the automatic start from inside.

"Wait, I can't remember if I turned off the oven..." And there she goes

Monica's mind is always racing right before we leave the house. I think she is more paranoid with leaving the kids on a day like today, but when I was promoted to Junior Copy Writer I was obligated to attend all business related events to show my devotion towards the company.

"If they are good they can have 1 cookie." I let Judy know as I fix my collar.

"Alright, everything is off." Monica emerges from checking every appliance in the kitchen. She wouldn't allow me to light the fireplace the first two years we moved into this house, so this kind of behavior doesn't surprise me. Honestly, I'm glad she double checks things; it's better to take a couple minutes to check everything than return to no home.

We exchange hugs and kisses with the kids because we probably won't be back in time for bed.

And finally we're out the door.

Climbing into the drivers seat I quickly close the door behind me and shield out the bitter cold. Thank God for seat warmers.

"I think it's getting colder by the minute." Monica chatters; her body frozen as she sits next to me completely still.

I look down at my speedometer "16" I announce the temperature as I sniffle. Reaching over, I rub the warmth back to her near-bare legs. I know she's shaven, but with the goosebumps it seems like she hasn't shaved in weeks. "Here..." Reaching in the back seat between the two buster-seats I grab the blanket we keep back there for the kids during the winter months. It's chilled from staying out in the car over night, but with the warmth of her body it should be cozy in a few minutes.

"Thanks." She shivers.

I wait another minute before I put the car in reverse and back out of our driveway.

The car ride is fairly quiet as we enjoy the Christmas lights through the town with the soft sound of holiday music playing on the radio. "I don't expect to stay long past the gift exchange." I tell her as I pull up to the parking garage and slip in my business pass before quickly removing it from the machine. Once it spits out a parking slip, the arm raises and allows my entry.

I don't find a parking spot until we reach the second level. "C" I say aloud to remind myself for when I need to find my vehicle later.

We unbuckle and climb out - back into the bitter cold evening. The orange secretary lights shine their way through the garage as the sun has already set for the night.

Popping the trunk, I pull out the wrapped present I bought for Carol a week ago. Monica's arm laces through mine before I even get a chance to slam the door shut. "What did you get her?" She questions as we find the exit and make our way across the street to the office.

"One of those Siamese cat sun catchers. She likes cats." I answer, looking both ways before we cross the intersection. "But this one waves to you when the sun touches it." I add "I also got her a cat pen, cause I didn't want to seem cheap." I admit

Monica laughs "Nice save on the pen idea." She leans against me for a split second, letting me know she is only teasing.

"Coats, Sir?" We walk through the door "Madam." He nods to Monica. First, I help Monica remove her coat before I hand over mine to the gentleman.

"Thank you." He hands me a number and I stuff it in my slacks.

I take Monica's hand in mine and I lead her through the office.

In just a few hours I'm going to have a Santa suit on and my wife up close. But first, business.

* * *

AN: I decided to split this into two parts. The next part will be up tomorrow to give you fine writers something to do at those dreadful family gatherings ;)


	2. Chapter 2

I could bore you all with their time at Chandler's office Christmas party, but I didn't want to bore myself. So we are going to assume all went well and we are going to continue this shenanigans...

 _Merry Christmas!_

* * *

The first one went down easy, the second one nice and smooth, but by the third my head was spinning around and that's when I got the clue. Someone spiked the eggnog, but I'm not sure who. I have suspicions of Dan when I saw him walking around with a bottle in his hand; but then again, D.R. was having fun by the bar. Who knows, it could have been Randy who was sporting a flask of brandy all night. I don't know for certain how it happened or who's to blame, but someone at that party should be ashamed.

I wouldn't say I'm drunk. No. Borderline, yes, but not drunk. I'm experiencing the side effects of tipsy and hungover as I find my way back to my vehicle.

"Left." She says soothingly right after I try to turn right and end up running into her.

Okay, maybe I'm a _little_ drunk.

My head is pounding as Monica navigates me back towards the car.

I'm not one to get hammered at parties, I'm also not one to drink eggnog, but here we are.

"Keys?" She questions once we approach the car.

I search my jacket pockets in hope that the room will stop spinning. "You should have never left me alone with Doug."

She laughs, but in a hurtful way "I should have never suggested a drink." She opens my coat before reaching in my hidden pocket and pulling out the keys. "How are you suppose to help me tonight, now?"

"Mon, I'm just tipsy, I can still manage to dress up as Santa and eat cookies." I say, with only a slight slur to my words.

She opens the passenger side and I slowly crawl in. There is a water in the cup holder that I've never been more excited to see.

I can't remember the last time I had induced alcohol to the point where I didn't appear as myself. For starters, Monica and I don't go out very often, and when we do, we are usually accompanied by Hansel and Gretel. Most nights I'm someone else, whether that be a fireman rescuing a damsel in distress or Tarzan swinging from vine to vine in hope to lose Godzilla behind me, or even superman using my x-ray vision to see if there are brownies in the oven. But when my imagination is put to rest, I get a chance to bring out my romantic side and charm my other half.

"Drink up." Monica comments as she jumps into the drivers seat and finds me cuddling a disposable water bottle. "I'm going to stop by Target and quickly run in." She informs me as she puts on some driving gloves before gripping the ice cold stirring wheel. "You just stay here and try to find your sober state, again."

I'm sure I'll be fine in an hour. The atmosphere has already stopped spinning; but that may be because I'm finally still.

Monica reaches to turn on the radio and the soft music of Michael Buble fill the speakers.

Christmas in the Bing household is pretty normal. We do the traditional baking of cookies, the _Night Before Christmas_ bedtime story, matching pajamas and of course, presents. Loads and loads of presents!

But when someone asks me what Christmas means to me, I don't know how to respond. What _does_ it mean? As a slow smile drifts to my lips, I think back on all my past Christmas'. I think about the memories and the sights, the sounds and the smells. I remember back on the absolute joy of being surrounded by family and friends.

And most of all the delight I get when watching the fire crackle and spark before sputtering into life. Its lambent light stole away the burglar-black shadows that dance on the wall. Forks of rainbow-orange flame feed hungrily at the chimney as they climb higher and higher...

The door slams and I hear Monica's boots crunching through the powdered snow outside. They detonate like muffled grenades every time they hit the ground.

I watch as a swag-bellied Santa blocks the entrance waiting for distressed shoppers to drop in their change. He rings his silver bell and sings his best version of _Jingle Bells_ that he can offer despite the bitter cold. This whiskey-nosed and chipmunk-cheeked character is a sorcerer of a special sort. He is indeed a joy to the world and the children's happiness proved it.

I looked up at the displayed Christmas tree in the town-hall. It flashes and flickers with its dazzling lights. An angel is perched on the top, glittering with a mint-silver luster.

As I recline back in my chair, my head rest against the icy window for just a moment before I bring up my arm to block it from the freezing glass.

This Christmas is going to be a record breaking low with a wind chill of -22. For a while we debated if we should take the kids out in this weather. Any bare skin that is exposed to the freezing air for longer than five minutes can lead to frostbite. It'll feel as if pins and needles were entering your body.

When I went on a ski trip to Colorado with a few buddies of mine back in college we had the same frostbite warning. One of the guys I went with ended up with frostbite on his nose the first day on the slopes. It's not something to joke about; for a long time I didn't take it seriously. The first morning we arrived I jogged out to my jeep in only shorts and a t-shirt to grab my bag. I felt the same little daggers peeling through my legs and I was outside under 60 seconds. Ever since then, I stayed in doors during any sort of Polar Vertex this part of the country goes through during the season.

And now with the kids I'm even more-

"I know, we should be home in 20 minutes..." Monica jumps back in the car, urgent to get out of the wind. "Yeah, don't worry about it...Okay," She glances in my direction and I'm assuming I was just added to their conversation. "Not until the 3rd." Yep, now I'm lost. "Okay...okay...yeah...alright, bye bye." Her phone leaves her ear so she can press end. "The kids are still up." She announces and tosses the gift bags that she just purchased in the back seat.

Sighing, she looks back at me. "Are you feeling any _less_ drunk?" She asks, hopeful.

"Mon, I'm fine..." Pausing, I add a fact "I didn't slur any of those words, did I?" It's a little over an hour since I had my last shot of rum, and the water is already starting to help.

She cringes, doubting the fact that I'm already sober. "There's a pack of crackers in my purse." She digs them out of her bag and hands them to me "Just...eat those, and...keep drinking the water." Her purse gets flung back with the bags as I begin to rip open the small package. Putting the car in reverse, she eases her way back on the street.

One by one the bright rays quickly shine through the car, making their way across my body as we drive through town. Christmas reefs, hung by the county's fire department, hang tightly to each light-post. Their red bows blow delicately in the wind; causing the snow to fall swiftly from each needle. Every building on the street is lit up to be welcoming in the dark. Last minute shoppers hurry from store to store, desperate to get that perfect gift for their loved one.

Christmas comes just once a year, full of laughter, cheer and kisses from the same aunt no one wants a gift from. Children play for hours in the snow; their cheeks turning rosy pink as they give their hat to their imaginary ice sculpture. They slowly lose their gloves next, followed by their scarf.

Finishing the last cracker in the package, we pull up to the house and sit there for just a moment. Through the window you can see our tree shinning in the corner. The lights are dimmed as two children and a grandmother curl up on the couch watching _A Wonderful Life_. A blanket is strewn over the three of them; the domino effect causing the kids to be leaned delicately against the Nana.

Suddenly, I've realized we should rearrange the furniture to keep strangers from looking in on our family.

"Hey." I hadn't noticed her looking at me until she said something. Tearing my eyes away from my family, I look over at the most perfect woman. "I love you..." She breaths out "So much." Her eyes close for a brief second before reopening. Looking me up and down she changes her mood from soft and loving to sex and hungry. "What do you say, we get in there, say goodbye to my mom, put the kids to bed and start _our_ Christmas?" She grins

And suddenly, I'm sober again.

Without responding, I open the car door and quickly make my way to the other side. "My lady." I open her door and reach for her hand, but before we take a step towards the house, I slam the door shut and gently push her up against the car. Before I could make my move, I misplace my footing and slip on a patch of ice. My ass hits the pavement hard and I'm lucky enough not to bang my head.

Monica gasps, "Oh, honey!" Her voice is high and I know she is fighting the urge to laugh.

"I'm fine...perfect." I mutter, trying my best to get back on my feet. Rolling over onto my stomach, my hands slip from under me. Realizing, I'm not on the best ground to get back up, I slowly make my way into the grass where I know there is no ice.

I feel Monica's hands brush across my butt as she tries her best to get the snow off my clothes. "You were doing so well, too." She comments, the laugh finally escaping her throat.

"I was working on making my move and then..." With a huff, I stand back up "...stupid winter." Everything I said before about Christmas being magical and beautiful...well, I take it all back. The snow sucks.

I grab a hold of Monica while we finish our walk up to the house.

The minute I open the door the aroma hits me. I can hear the fire crackling before I see it and the soft sounds of the T.V. tell me the kids fell asleep on the couch. I take our coats and hang them up, quietly thanking Judy for coming out in this weather before reaching down to scoop up Jack.

His arms wrap around my neck as I support his bottom. His head nuzzles comfortably in the crock of my neck as I carry him slowly up the stairs and down the hall.

It wasn't until I quietly cracked his bedroom door that I heard the front door downstairs seal tightly shut. Before I even reach the bottom step Monica had Erica in her arms. Pausing in front of me, I kiss my little girl on the forehead. Carefully, I follow my wife back upstairs; ready to grab the worn down bunny that is hanging loosely from Erica's limp hand. She is getting so big and I dread the day she no longer needs her daddy. Before I know it she'll be married with her own kids celebrating Christmas at her own house. Her imagination of Santa Claus will be run dry by then as she creates her own figurative image of the character for her little girl.

However, until I see the light of that day, I'll continue to put on the Santa suit and leave a dent in the cookies they lay out for him.

Reaching high above the clothes in our closet I pull down a box marked _Business Suit_. Setting it on the bed I pull the flaps open and begin the transformation.

Undoing my tie from the party, I lay it over my dresser, then comes my shirt and soon my pants. Standing in my drawers, I freeze my balls off as I quickly put on Santa's famous red suit. The cushioned belly is attached securely to the coat as I struggle to Velcro it together. The first time I put this suit on was for Ben eight years ago. I remember the way his eyes lit up when he saw me burst through the door. It's something I loved doing, and the fact that I created such joy for one little kid was kind of special, too. Not to mention the little present I got afterwards...

"Hey you."

In the middle of placing the finishing touch on my outfit, I turn around to find Monica leaned up against the door frame with her arms crossed tiredly over one another.

"Hey yourself." I smirk, slipping on my boots "Down?"

"Out like a light." She reports.

Pulling on my boots, I flip the ball at the end of my hat to the back and stand up. Grinning from ear to ear, Monica turns out of the doorway and we make our way back downstairs to the empty tree. Every parent has their secret hiding spot for Santa's gifts; some stash them under their bed, others in the closet, as for us, we hide them in the shed.

"I'll start grabbing them if you want to pour the milk?" I whisper, heading straight for the back door. The cold air doesn't seem as bad with this thick suit on. In fact, it feels kind of nice. My boots make perfect foot prints in the snow straight into the shed. Opening the doors I reveal the mother load. Some gifts are wrapped, others are not. But before I can step even three feet in, two bikes sit in my way. The flames are painted delicately on the side of one while the other sports pink and white tassels from its handlebars.

There are two different kind of people in the world during the holiday season. There are the ones that put everything they want into their cart on Amazon and tells their parents to checkout, then there are the ones that don't even bother giving lists because they want to be surprised. Oh, they _will_ be surprised when they receive that ugly broach from grandma during the Christmas gathering.

When I was younger I use to get a different list to everyone I knew; the relatives, the guy at the deli, even my old pal Frankie on the subway that I rode every Tuesday night to get away from my parents arguing.

But as I got older, my list became shorter, the tinker toys I once wanted as a child grew more expensive. I could see everything start to change; the joy of Christmas morning, the fun I had with my cousins as we showed off our latest prize, even my mood was different during this season.

Yet, when my friends came into my life I had a new meaning for Christmas. It was no longer all about the gifts, it was - and as cheesy as this might sound - it was about the love. Then those friends became family, and that family became my most prized possession.

And suddenly, when someone asked what Christmas meant to me, I knew what to say.

Christmas is everything.

* * *

AN: Well there you have it! I finished this just minutes ago so it might be rushed a little at the end.

The song in the beginning is:

 _Who Spiked the Eggnog; By: Straight No Chasers_

I really recommend giving it a listen!

I hope everyone has a spectacular Christmas and you remember the true meaning behind the holiday!


End file.
